See yourself through my eyes

"A-typical seems to be our thing." Remi said casually with the beginnings of a grin on his lips, though the words abruptly stalled as soon as they left his tongue, and Remi found himself blinking down at their clasped hands. Our thing. The alchemist swallowed, suddenly feeling...what exactly? The problem was that he didn't know. Before he might have just ignored the feeling, but with Jigano's criticisms so bright in his mind, now Remi worried about the ramifications of his actions in a way he never quite had before. Remi flinched slightly under Sam's touch as goosebumps blossomed beneath the man's fingers. Every bit of him felt raw and Sam's touch was almost too much , though he endured with a shaky smile. At the mention of LongNight, Remi nibbled the inside of his lip. He'd forgotten all about it, and suddenly felt incredibly hindered by the state of his body. What use would he be now, if something were to happen? With an incoherent sort of grumble, Remi tilted his head towards Sam as if just now comprehending what he'd said. "I had told Vai I would help at the Rathskeller.." He said, voice trailing off slightly as if now considering other possibilities. Although..."Jigano?" Remi inquired, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. The alchemist could not imagine anything that would probably cause Sam more stress than the sure-to-be-icy silence between himself and the bard, especially if the three of them were caged up together in one house for a week. With a weary sort of sigh, Remi reached for the handle above him once again. "I need to lay down." He murmured gently, giving Sam's hand a slight tug. "But...stay. Maybe you could close the door?" Trying his best to rotate in the bed while at the same time basically not moving his torso at all, Remi held his breath, the occasionally exhaled a steady stream of agonized air, before sucking in another breath between his teeth. Eventually though, he managed to find himself more or less prone on the bed again, sides heaving, face flushed, with a bit of blood blooming through the gauze on his stitches. Shimmying to the side, he'd left enough room for Sam to sit—or lay down— on the bed as well. remi I always forget that you can't read my mind